Closer
by Lyndell E. Abercrombie
Summary: Chekov's been having that dream again... Slash, don't like don't read.


Hi everyone, Lyndell here again. Lately I've gotten a wild fascination with the Star Trek universe- especially TOS and TNG. I'll try to keep this short; I know I still have another *_coughspongebobcough_* to attend to, but I have no idea when I'll be able to get to that, so for now I'll focus on this one. I'm writing this because well, Chekov is my favouritest character evar, and even though my friend's not much into Star Trek, she LOVES Scotty. So what the hey.

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The Engineering deck seemed almost to be unfamiliar territory to the Chief Navigator of the _Enterprise_. He frowned; it _shouldn't_ be. Back at the Academy, it was required for him to know all the intricacies of several different star ships better than he knew his own reflection. And yet here, as the young Russian looked around for Mr Scott, the place seemed like a labyrinth. _Why_ was he so disoriented?

And why did the place seem so deserted? Surely there should be workers stationed all over the place, bustling round the huge, magnificent collection of machinery?

Perhaps they're off-duty, Chekov thought to himself. Da, that's it. They're all off-duty...

...At the same time...

He didn't realise exactly how spooky this all was until a voice called sharply from behind him, almost making his heart jump right out of his throat.

"Ensign?" Chekov spun around, and sure enough, it was Mr Scott. Trying to act as if he hadn't just gotten the fright of his life, he straightened up.

"Meester Scott..."

"What're you doin' down here, laddie? Somethin' wrong?"

"Err, Sir..." Chekov frowned again, this time frustrated at his own unretentive memory. "De Keptin sent me heer... Internal communications are down, and he needs you on de Bridge." He finished at last, as his slowed mind suddenly clicked. He looked up again at Scotty, expecting him to nod curtly in acknowledgement and briskly walk to the elevator.

He didn't.

"...Meester Scott? Sir?" Chekov looked at the Engineer's face. What was that look meant to be? Was it anger? No, he didn't seem angry. He seemed more... determined? Determined to do what?

Then a thought crossed his mind. Was it... no, surely not. Mr Scott was a senior officer. Chekov was just an ensign... he didn't even really know the man that well, outside of his work shifts anyway.

Scotty stepped towards him. "What is it, laddie?"

"Keptin Kirk wants you on de Bridge, sir." Chekov said quietly, and his heart began to beat ever faster. He was suddenly focusing all of his attention on the Scotsman's face- those warm, dark brown eyes that stared into his own so intently, so _fiercely- _Chekov found himself wondering about the Scotsman's lips, wondering what it would be like to discover for himself how warm and soft they might be...

"T'hell with the Captain." Scotty said softly, and Chekov was suddenly aware of his warm breath brushing against his face, as they drew so close-

_**BWEEP. BWEEP.**_

The ensign's eyes flashed open at the noise and immediately realised that he was, in fact, _not _downstairs making out with the majestic wonder that was Montgomery Scott.

He groaned loudly as he reached over his bedside table and slammed his alarm off. This was not the first time he had been rudely awoken from such a pleasant dream. He vaguely considered unplugging that damn alarm and smashing it with a hammer, but quickly discarded the thought. He had more important duties to attend to, after all- and he prided himself on being punctual.

Nevertheless, the vision was still fresh in his mind even after he had dressed and fed himself, and walked with a brisk pace to the Bridge to begin his shift. At least he could look forward to sleeping in soon; the ship's crew was scheduled to arrive at the Earth Colony on planet Vega-3 in about three days.

The ship wasn't going to get there by itself, though. He knew he needed to focus on plotting the course towards the Vega system.

He felt frustrated with himself again as he couldn't shake the image of the lieutenant-commander's face from his mind. Part of him felt ashamed that he hadn't even mustered up the courage to tell Mr Scott exactly how he felt- but then, another, larger part of him screamed at him for being so insane as to even consider such a prospect. This was a superior officer, a man almost twice his age, a shipmate on a Federation Starfleet WVessel. If it wasn't illegal, then it definitely wasn't the proper thing. In fact, he reminded himself, it was entirely likely that Scotty wasn't even into men anyway.

Chekov shook his head vigorously in an attempt to push the subject out of his mind, and concentrated at the task at hand. It wouldn't be long before his break, anyway. Then he could turn his thoughts back to much more... _indulging_ concepts.

He punched some coordinates into his console, and looked up as the image on the main screen blurred from the effects of Warp Drive.


End file.
